Don't Forget Me
by mmouse15
Summary: After Red Alert's glitch becomes common knowledge, he goes into a funk. How can Inferno help him through this troubled time?


Title: Don't Forget Me

By: mmouse15

Rating: T (I didn't get very smutty, sorry Casha!)

Characters/pairings: Red Alert/Inferno

Warnings: slash, mild smuttiness

So many months ago, I forgot Red Alert and my LJ friend Casha called me on it and as my penance, I decided to write a Red AlertxInferno story for her. The darn thing practically wrote itself, but I got busy over the summer and forgot about it. I've pulled it out, polished it a bit, and here it is for your reading pleasure.

This story was written in summer 2008, and finally posted November 2008.

* * *

Inferno tapped the code into the panel absently. He was worried. Prowl had commed him to order him back to the Ark. Once there, the SIC had told him that Red Alert had fritzed out again and Ratchet had sedated him. Inferno had gone to the medbay, where the CMO had chewed him out.

"Why didn't you tell me he had worked so many cycles?"

"I just thought…"

"No, you didn't think. Primus on a pogostick, Inferno, overworked Red equals overly paranoid Red! You are not alone; there are plenty of mechs here who appreciate the job that Red does. We can help!" Ratchet raged at him.

Inferno seemed to curl in on himself. Ratchet sighed. "Look, Inferno, you and Red are friends and Red listens more to you than anyone else except Prowl. Ask for help if you're overwhelmed."

Inferno shook his head. "I just…ever since Red took that blow to the head and the Negavator was lost, I just…I haven't felt like he does trust me. I don't think I can help him."

Ratchet mentally groaned. How careless he was being. The relationship between Red Alert and Inferno had always looked like an incomprehensible dance to him, with Inferno's caution (of course, only with Red, the fire truck was reckless in every other regard) and Red's paranoia making every delicate move fraught with meaning. He mentally rearranged his priorities to focus most of his processor on the mech in front of him.

"C'mon, Inferno, I need to sit down for a spell. Wrestling with Red when he's in full blown dementia is hard on my systems." He ushered Inferno into his office and offered a cube of energon to the fire truck. Inferno gratefully accepted the cube and hunched over the pink swirling liquid. Ratchet sat quietly, almost able to hear the gears grinding in Inferno's processor.

"I'm just not sure anymore, Ratchet. It seems as if Red hasn't wanted to be around me very much anymore. He makes excuses to avoid me, he recharges when I'm out on patrol or out of the Ark, he stays barricaded in the security center. I just feel helpless, because he felt that I was attacking him when I was trying to help him."

"He's ashamed of what happened." Ratchet offered.

"He shouldn't be! He wasn't in his right processor. Anybody should understand that!" Inferno snarled.

"But there are mechs here, naming no names, that pounce on any opportunity to denigrate someone else, and what Red did with Starscream has given them plenty of ammunition." The CMO pointed out.

Inferno set his cube aside and dropped his head into his hand. "I know. It's just…don't they know that Red hears everything they say? It makes him even worse."

Ratchet nodded to himself. "I would say that they are unaware of the extent of the surveillance within the Ark."

Inferno gave a bitter laugh. "Or they are aware and doing it on purpose."

The CMO shook his head, "No, probably not. Don't let Red Alert's paranoia affect your responses, Inferno. You need to separate yourself. Now, we need to have a plan to work with you and Red Alert to come to grips with these problems he's been having. I'd like to have a meeting tomorrow with Smokescreen, Prowl, Optimus, myself, you and Red Alert. What do you think?"

The fire truck nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good."  
"Then I want to know more, Inferno. Tell me what you think."

"I don't know right now, Ratchet. Right now, I'm just trying to adjust to this new Red. Let me have some time?" The fire truck pleaded.

"Sure Inferno. Shall we bring him online?"

"I guess so." Inferno looked uncertain. Ratchet moved and gripped his shoulder comfortingly.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Inferno helped Red Alert into their quarters. Red was still very relaxed and mellow from whatever block Ratchet had put on his systems, but the CMO had warned Inferno that it was temporary and would soon abate.

"Alright Red, here we are." Inferno arranged the limp form on his berth. Red gazed up at him, his optics unfocused. "Do you want to take a nap?"

Red Alert snapped to attention. "No. I've been away from my station long enough. I need to get back."

Inferno gently pressed a hand to his shoulder to keep him down. "Ratchet has put you on medical leave for the next three days, Red. Prowl is covering your duty stations."

Red sank back. "Prowl won't do it right. He doesn't always watch the monitors. He works on his battle plans instead. He can't do it like I can."

"Nevertheless, he's doing it and you're not." Inferno informed him.

To the fire truck's horror, Red Alert slowly curled into a small ball of mech and a keening came from his vocalizer. Inferno instinctively wrapped around him and began a stream of comforting words.

"They're not replacing you. You're ill and you need the rest. No one's trying to take your place, Red. It'll be OK…" He continued with the reassurances, stroking Red Alert's back in a soothing manner. After a long while, Red slowly uncurled and allowed Inferno to tuck him against his chest. Red was shuddering, the mental stress overwhelming his physical control.

"Talk to me, Red," Rumbled Inferno, continuing to physically soothe the agitated security director.

Red tucked his head against the join of Inferno's shoulder and neck and began to speak.

"I'm not myself, " he began. He poked the fire truck when a noise of agreement rumbled from him. "You listen and stop with the commentary."

"Sure, Red. Sorry."

Red once again made himself comfortable. "I'm not myself, and I know it. My processor…feels so slow. I…feel like I'm thinking through a curtain, or as if someone poured old energon over me and I have to fight my way free of the sticky mess so I can think. And…and I can't get anything to work right no matter how hard I try and I feel so overwhelmed." He pressed more firmly into Inferno's shoulder and confessed, "I'm not doing a good job, and I feel that everyone knows that I'm not doing my job and they're laughing at me."

"No one's laughing at you, Red."

"Yes, they are! And I shouldn't let it bother me, Inferno, but it does! It hurts, what mechs are saying about me. I used to be able to shrug it off, and I can't now. I brood about it. I think about what they're saying all the time. I can't…I can't let it go, Inferno! I can't just tell myself they'll find something else to gossip about soon enough. It's like…it's as if every word is a stab wound to my processor. It's personal this time, in a way it's never been before. Why can't I let it go?"

"I don't know, Red. But we'll work through this, together."

"Why?" Red pulled up and looked Inferno in the optics. "Why would you stay with me? I'm defective. I betrayed our cause, and now I can't even do my job correctly."

Inferno gently pressed Red's head back to his shoulder. "I stay with you because I love you, Red. I have for a long time. You're my friend, my love, my beloved. I would do anything for you. We will work through this problem together. You're not alone. I'll always be there for you. I agree that you're not yourself, but I remember who you were, and I'll help you get back to that person, okay? I'll be here for you."

Red broke down. Inferno continued to comfort him until Red fell into recharge. The fire truck opened a communication line to Ratchet and databurst to the CMO a transcript of the exchange he'd had with Red Alert then allowed himself to finally drift into recharge securely holding his beloved in his arms.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Red Alert stopped so suddenly that Inferno almost plowed into him. The fire truck was able to stop, and laid a hand on Red's shoulder to reassure him. Red flashed a glance back at him and visibly gathered his courage to continue into the meeting room. He chose a chair midway along the table and Inferno sat next to him, nodding a greeting to Ratchet on the other side. Prowl joined them shortly thereafter, followed by Smokescreen and finally, Optimus Prime.

Ratchet opened the meeting as it would normally be done, then abruptly stopped, looking long and hard at Red Alert who seemed to pull inward upon himself. Ratchet suddenly stood, went over to the energon dispenser tucked into the wall, and started pouring cubes. Prowl seemed to catch onto what he was doing and passed out the cubes of energon to all the participants. After they finished they sat down again, and Ratchet pushed his pile of datapads into an empty seat. Prowl copied him and laid his datapads out of sight.

"Right. Red Alert, we are here to help you. This is not a disciplinary meeting, or a strategy meeting. These are your friends and we want to help you. What would be the best way for us to do that?" Ratchet asked.

Red Alert shrank further into his seat as all optics focused on him. Inferno cleared his intakes and spoke, "Red finds this to be a difficult topic, so if you don't mind, I'm going to speak for him. He can correct me as he needs to, but I'm going to try and put into words what I think he needs. Is that acceptable?" After getting agreement from everyone, he continued, "Red Alert is dealing with a glitch in his central processor. The most difficult thing about this glitch is that by its very nature, it resists correction. If we tried to cut out the coding that contains the glitch, we would remove Red's personality. Right, Ratchet?"

"Yes, Inferno, that is correct. Any attempts at by-passes have had deleterious effects." The CMO agreed.

The fire truck continued, "So, what we need most is time for Red's processor to handle the glitch. The personality changes that Red has shown are side effects from the glitch. They include paranoia, an inability to effectively recharge, the inability to distinguish normal gossip from criticism, extreme mood swings…the list goes on. Red's job as security director is his life-line, but it is reinforcing his inability to handle critical comments. I think that's the first thing we need to handle."

Prowl exchanged a look with Optimus and spoke, "Alright. Red Alert, you will be put on medical leave for…"

"A month initially." Ratchet interjected.

"…and I will draw up a rotation of reliable mechs to keep an optic on the security cameras."

Red Alert moved forward, "I don't want them in the security room, it would compromise the security of that room. We can't have that!"

"No, of course not." Prowl agreed. "Which is why Jazz…" as the mech in question entered the room with an inquiring look, "…will, under your guidance, set up a temporary by-pass and route the security camera outputs to a console or two in Teletraan's main operations room. Will that be acceptable?"

"I suppose so. Under my guidance, you say?"

"Absolutely. No one understands the security as you do, and it would be a waste of our resources to attempt to duplicate the work you've already done."

"Besides, Red, I could learn a few things from you, and that would be a help to me in my job, " Jazz told him as he settled into a chair next to Inferno.

Prowl glanced at Smokescreen, who took his cue and spoke. "Red Alert, you and I will have counseling session three times per week and try to come up with strategies for coping with the glitch, alright?"

Red Alert looked at Inferno, who leaned forward and told Smokescreen, "I would like to be there for the first few sessions. I may move out into the hall and let you two talk, but I think Red needs me to be there."

"That's fine. We can work with that." Smokescreen looked over at Ratchet.

"I'd like to try some coding on you, Red Alert. You'll have to come in for checkups twice per week, because if the coding doesn't work, we'll need to try something else."

"Okay, Ratchet." Red told him quietly.

Optimus finally spoke up. "Red Alert. We want you to recover from this set back and be a part of the team again. What we are doing is not a judgment against you."

Red looked at him. "It feels like it is."

"I understand that. I need you to keep reminding yourself that it is not. It is comparable to the time Tracks lost his leg and it took three weeks for Ratchet and Wheeljack to manufacture a replacement. I know that Tracks was frustrated with his inability to move around, but he did recover and take his place within the team again. You have a processor problem, but it can be fixed in time. Allow yourself that time." Optimus leaned back. "Red Alert, Inferno, do you have anything more to address at this time?"

Inferno nodded. "Yes. What are you going to tell the troops?"

"I am going to tell them that Red Alert is on medical leave and that he needs our support and understanding. Anyone not able to comply with those orders will find themselves spending time in the brig and cleaning up parts of the Ark that need it. To that effect, Prowl, please take Inferno off the duty roster. As Red Alert's main support, his job until will be with Red Alert for the near future. Ratchet, please get with Wheeljack and Perceptor. I'd like a list of areas within the Ark that you would like access to. I know that Wheeljack would like to get to equipment in one of the storage rooms that is difficult to access and I think that cutting a new pathway to that room would be a good work detail. Prowl, please co-ordinate with the science and medical teams to have those areas and the equipment ready for work details. Smokescreen, please clear your schedule. Any bot that has a problem with Red Alert's medical leave will be coming to talk to you for counseling on social interaction." Optimus rattled out his orders.

"Yes, Prime. " came the echoes of agreement from around the table.

The leader finished by saying, "Red Alert, Inferno, if there is anything you need, please let me or one of the mechs in this room know as soon as possible. We will all do our best to provide for your needs in this time."

"Thank you, sir." Inferno spoke for both as he coaxed Red Alert from his chair and they exited the room.

After they were gone, Prowl pulled out a datapad and started inputing Prime's orders. Ratchet sent a private communication to Wheeljack to meet in a breem. Optimus looked around the room and asked, "How shall we handle this with the troops?"

Prowl looked up. "I will send out a general order with the outline of the idea, but I think Smokescreen and Jazz should be the ones to convey the finer points to everyone. Is that acceptable?"

The saboteur looked over at Smokescreen and they both agreed.

"Excellent. I do want updates as needed. Red Alert is a valuable member of our team and I do not want him feeling alienated for a problem that he can not help having. I want him to be able to resume his duties at some point in the future and feel that he is still part of the team."

"Yes, sir." With that, the meeting broke up and everyone left.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Inferno leaned against the wall, waiting for Red Alert to finish up with Smokescreen. The counseling sessions occurred every other day, and the routine had been established from the first meeting. Red Alert and Inferno would go in together, Inferno would list all the woes Red was having and with whom, Red would add corrections and changes, then Inferno would leave while Smokescreen and Red talked and worked out strategies for coping with the various problems Red Alert. Once the two were done, Inferno would go back in for an update on Red's status so he knew what Red was supposed to be doing. The fire truck had to admit that the security director was making progress. Ratchet had come up with a couple of different codes that seemed to help Red's processor cope with the glitch, and many of the problem 'bots were finally getting the message that their brand of teasing was not tolerated. Cliffjumper had been the biggest problem, but even he was learning to restrain himself. Jazz had proven to be a superb choice to monitor the security information and compile it for Red Alert. The saboteur gave him a very brief overview of the weekly data and answered all Red's questions with 'We handled it.' Red had gotten frustrated with the answer until Jazz pointed out that having any more detail would mean that Red would get involved and according to Ratchet's medical orders, he couldn't do that. Having such a brief summary meant that Red knew if there were any major problems, but otherwise Jazz and his crew dealt with all security issues and allowed Red Alert the time to heal. After three weeks, Red privately admitted to Inferno that he was able to let go of the need to know every detail. Smokescreen announced that Red's progress meant that they could move to the next phase of healing.

"Inferno?" Smokescreen was beckoning him into the room.

The fire truck stood and walked into the room, taking a seat by Red Alert. Smokescreen reseated himself behind the desk.

"We're going to drop Red down to a session every four days. Ratchet seems to think that the coding he's implemented has stabilized Red's processor glitch and the repair systems have kicked in. Jazz reports that Red has stopped worrying about the security detail and is trusting Jazz to handle any situation that arises." He raised a hand to stop Red Alert's objections. "Not that you've stopped wanting to do your job, Red, merely that you are not needing to know every single event every single minute. You've gained enough perspective to place the security job in the correct priority slot. That's all I meant."

The security director had subsided back into his chair at the explanation. Smokescreen looked at him for a few moments to be sure that Red had nothing else to say before he resumed.

"As I was saying, the gossiping and back biting behaviors seem to have been stopped, so we're ready to move on to the next step. Your support and help are necessary for this stage, Inferno."

Inferno glanced over at Red Alert, who was looking at him hopefully. "Sure, Smoky. Whatever I need to do to help Red."

"Good, good." Smokescreen grabbed a datapad and looked at it. Inferno fought the urge to fidget.

"Inferno, we need to work on hobbies for Red Alert. Or, if you don't want to call them hobbies, leisure time activities that help him balance his work and give him something to do other than worry about the security of the Ark. Red has been unable to come up with anything, so I'd really like it if you could work with him until our next session and come up with a list of fun things for him to try."

"Sure, Smokescreen, I can do that." The fire truck looked carefully over at the security director, who was refusing to meet his optics.

"Excellent. I'll see you both in four days." Smokescreen ushered them out of his office and waved Jazz in. The saboteur gave them a jaunty wave as he passed them.

Inferno walked carefully next to Red Alert as they headed back to their quarters. Part way there, Inferno stopped him with a hand on his elbow and asked, "Would you like to go for a drive, Red? It's a beautiful day, and it would be nice to have the sun on our plating."

Red was able to make decisions better since they'd been working on his glitch, but Inferno could tell that this had thrown his processor for a loop, and he quickly added, "Never mind. Let's do that tomorrow, okay?"

Red nodded and they continued to their quarters. Once there, Red curled up on the berth. He always seemed to be extremely tired after a counseling session, and Inferno tried to let him take a nap. He hoped that Red would overcome this desire to recharge so much, but Ratchet had told him that the sleepiness was a part of the glitch and it would take time for Red's processor to overcome that need. Inferno looked around for his latest datapad, but was stopped by Red asking, "Inferno?"

"Yeah, Red?"

"Will you sit with me?" the Lamborghini patted the berth.

The fire truck was surprised. Red hadn't sought his company; he tolerated Inferno, he relied on the fire truck to help him communicate with everyone, but there had been a barrier between them for months. Inferno hesitantly sat in the spot indicated, and his Spark warmed as Red laid his head in his lap and curled himself around the fire truck. Inferno started to stroke Red's shoulder and back, and the security director vented air and relaxed under the fire truck's ministrations. Long moments passed, and Inferno felt himself relaxing in the peace that filled the room.

"Inferno? I don't have any hobbies, and I haven't ever really had any. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, Red, we'll figure something out. Don't strain your processor over it right now."

Red sleepily nodded, then asked, "Will you sleep with me?"

Inferno smiled down at him and told him, "Sure, Red, I'd be happy to do so." Suiting actions to words, he made himself comfortable on the berth, wrapping the security director in his arms.

"Good. I sleep better with you here." Red Alert told him just before his recharge overtook him.

Inferno lay awake for a long time after that, thinking over the implications of that confession.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next couple of days gave Inferno much to think about. Red Alert was not interested in any type of music. The fire truck was grateful to Blaster and Jazz for spending hours with the security director, playing for him so many types of music from both Cybertron and Earth. They then visited Hound and Trailbreaker for a tour of Nature, but Red did not do well outside the Ark and Ratchet was forced to give him a relaxant to settle his glitch. All other outside activities were cancelled, and Inferno moved to the next mech on his list, Wheeljack. 'Jack was an inquisitive mind with a voracious appetite for reading, and offered Red Alert the run of his library. Bluestreak contributed reading material, as did Perceptor and Prowl. Prowl offered to play techno-chess with him, and Red Alert seemed to enjoy the game but later confessed to Inferno that he wouldn't want to play all the time, but the occasional game would be nice. Inferno passed that on to Prowl and thanked him. The next day, Bluestreak showed up with a different game, and soon had Inferno in stitches and Red Alert smiling. Games were soon added to Red Alert's recreational choices, and a surprising number of Autobots started finding their old games and Blaster organized game nights once a week, which was quite enjoyable for everybody.

The reading was not going as well. The security director had a bad habit of finding the holes in histories and biographies and getting riled up, so Inferno returned all such datapads to their owners. Fiction annoyed Red Alert and was also removed from his shelf. The best book, surprisingly, was a loaner from Spike and was a collection of cartoon strips from the Earth newspapers. Red enjoyed them immensely, and Inferno ordered several from the local bookstore.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"I'm not doing very well." Red told his partner one evening.

"Whatever do you mean, Red?" the fire truck was curled around him protectively. Red nestled closer and confessed quietly, "I mean, we haven't found a hobby for me."

Inferno was quiet for a long time, then slowly replied, "Well, I suppose that's true, but we have found things you enjoy doing, and you've been the catalyst for Game Night which has benefited everybody. That's a positive. We've found books that you enjoy and that don't make your glitch worse. On the whole we have made progress, Red."

"But it isn't perfect!" Red protested.

Inferno pulled back a little bit and gently cupped the Lamborghini's chin, establishing optic contact. "Whoa. Perfection is not what we're striving for. All I'm asking for is good enough, and I agree that we're not there yet, but we're working on it. You ask too much if you want it perfect right out of the chute, Red. Life doesn't work that way."

Red burrowed back into Inferno's chassis, muttering, "But it should. If you work hard enough, if you think of everything, it should be perfect."

The fire truck sat up, bringing the Lamborghini with him. "No, Red, that's a trap. Life has too many input lines for you to be able to allow for every contingency, and so you can't make it perfect. Accidents happen. Look at Prowl. Very few mechs are better at planning than he is, but Sentinel Prime was still killed on his watch. He's managed to get over that and continue to contribute to the Autobots. You need to let go of this need to be perfect. Please."

Red was shaking his head, words running over each other, "…but it should be…why can't I…what if…If I just…"

Inferno commed Ratchet and Smokescreen with this new development and was unsurprised to see the door open a minute later, allowing Ratchet to enter. The medic quietly moved over to them with a tranquilizing shot ready. Inferno wrapped his arms tighter around the security director and was grateful that Red was so lost in his ramblings that he didn't notice the prick of the sedative entering his systems. Moments later Red slumped in his arms, his vocalizer finally shutting off as he fell into recharge.

Ratchet subspaced the tool and quirked an optic ridge. "What brought this attack on?"

"A need for perfection." Inferno told him, arranging Red Alert on the berth and standing to face the medic, databursting him the exchange with Red Alert that had just occurred.

"Life is full of imperfections." Ratchet told him, "If it were perfect, I'd be able to save every Spark that crossed my tables, and I can't."

"You know that, I know that, but I think Red's having a problem with the concept. I'll take him to Smokey in the morning."

"I'll write up the report on this tonight so everyone is up to speed."

"Thanks, Ratch, I appreciate it." Inferno watched him leave, then turned back to his beloved, shaking his head. "Every time I think we make progress, we find something else and I feel like I'm back at the starting line. I hope we can work through this, Red. I really do."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The next morning was a flurry of activity. Red Alert was bundled off to see Ratchet, who had dragged Wheeljack out of recharge to work on a new set of codes to deal with the perfectionism quirk that Red had developed. After the new code was uploaded, the security director was sent to talk to Smokescreen. Prowl was brought in to talk probability and statistics with them and to help Red Alert assimilate the new coding he'd received. Optimus Prime weighed in with his opinion, which did have the effect of making the Lamborghini take everyone's efforts seriously. After the consultation with Smokescreen, Prowl, and Optimus, Red Alert was taken back to the medbay to talk with Ratchet. Inferno was with him every step of the way, patiently waiting through the meetings and escorting him to the next stop. At the medbay, Ratchet grabbed Inferno before he could leave and told him to have a seat, too.

"All right, you two. Red, I hope you understand how seriously we are taking this new development, and I wish that you were more in tune with yourself and could have noticed this new glitch before it got so serious." At this, Red Alert looked startled, and the medic continued, "You are in charge of your own healing, you know. We're doing our best to help you, but one of the steps you need to take is having ownership of your own health and not depending upon others to catch and fix the problems for you. Inferno, I want to do a check-up on you, right now."

Inferno agreed easily and allowed Ratchet to hook up monitors and jack into an access port. Red Alert watched the proceedings with a funny expression on his face.

"Uh huh. Just as I thought. Hm. Too low, that's out of balance, need to pay attention to that." Ratchet was muttering to himself. He unjacked from the fire truck and retrieved a couple of tools from his workbench. Bringing them over and laying them next to Inferno, he started injecting into a line near Inferno's neck.

"Right. Your energy levels are at 56%, much too low. You need to take care of yourself, too. Running yourself into stasis lock won't help Red Alert at all, and may do more damage than good. Put yourself higher on the priority list, Inferno, or I'll manually rewrite your code and that won't feel good. I know you're head over heels in love with him, but you're important too." A muffled sound from Red Alert had both Ratchet and Inferno looking at him.

Red cowered under their combined gazes, and Ratchet caught on quicker than Inferno did. "You didn't know?"

"No." Red's answer was quiet.

"Know what?" Inferno was lost.

"Hmph. Now you do." The medic turned back to Inferno, finishing his work. He went to his office and returned with a cube of energon, offering it to the fire truck.

"Now, I don't want your energy levels falling below 80%. I want you getting a full recharge cycle every other day, and I want you to take time for yourself. Call on one of us to help with Red Alert if you need, but get out, go for a drive, play a game. Don't make him the focus of your whole life."

Inferno snorted at that and told him, "He is the focus of my life."

"Balance is the key to a happy life, Inferno. Try modeling for him the proper behaviors."

"Says the pot." The fire truck was chuckling.

"Right, kettle, and in these matters I rank you." The medic had dropped back into a playful mode. "Both of you get out of my medbay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Inferno handed him the empty cube and jumped off the table. "Later, Ratch, thanks for everything." He swept Red Alert up and took him out of the medbay.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

In their quarters, Red broke away from Inferno and curled up on the berth. Inferno watched him for a while, then picked up his datapad and got comfortable. He was not surprised to have Blaster knock on the door an hour later. Blaster made himself comfortable, and Inferno left the Ark for a long drive, joined by Hound and Prowl. He came back hours later feeling better than he had in a long time. He stopped and got some energon, then headed back to his room. Blaster grinned up at him, saying, "He's still recharging. Nothing happened. Later?"

"Yeah, thanks, Blaster. Nice of you guys to arrange this." Inferno clasped hands with Blaster, expressing his appreciation.

"No problem, 'Ferno, just let us know." The communications specialist left. Inferno looked at his datapad, decided against reading, and moved to the berth, carefully climbing on it and slowly curling around Red Alert. The Lamborghini stirred as the warmth of the fire truck enveloped him.

"Shh, Red it's me. Go back to recharge." Inferno tried to sooth him, but Red turned in his embrace instead and burrowed close to the warmth, his hand moving cautiously against Inferno's chest, stroking the huge windshield than formed most of the fire truck's frontal armor. Inferno slid his hand over Red Alert's, stopping the stroking that was maddening to his sensors. Red briefly struggled against him, then slumped, giving up the fight.

"I was right." Came the quiet mutter.

"Right about what, Red?" The fire truck asked him quietly.

"You don't really love me."

Inferno moved so fast Red was startled. Before his processors could catch up, he found himself pinned to the berth and being kissed deeply. Startled, he didn't respond and Inferno drew back, grimacing.

"I love you, more than anything. But I don't want to be teased by you. I want you, I have for a long time. I want to be with you, to love you as you deserve to be loved. When…when you're ready to actually trust me, then we can, maybe, do something about that. Meanwhile, I will care for you as best I can, but that doesn't give you the right to tease me with something you can't deliver and rev me up. It isn't fair to me. Do you understand this?"

Red nodded, but caught Inferno's shoulder before he could move. "I understand. I do. But…what if I'm never ready?"

Inferno touched his forehead to Red Alert's, "Then you're never ready, and I'll still be here." He moved off the security director and lay on the berth, opening his arms. Red rolled into the security of his embrace and they both drifted into recharge.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Over the next week or more, Inferno had to call on all his reserves of concentration and restraint. Red Alert had decided that he liked touching Inferno, and he did it whenever he could in private. He became almost as tactile as Jazz, resting a hand on Inferno's leg when they were talking, stroking the fire truck's arm when they were waiting for an appointment, holding his hand when they were together in Smokescreen's office. Inferno was sure that he was going to spontaneously combust from the innocent contact, but being able to touch him seemed to calm Red Alert. Ratchet and Smokescreen both commented to him how much calmer Red Alert was, and Inferno admitted that Red's nervousness seemed to have abated to a normal mech's levels. Ratchet backed off on the codes he'd given the security director, and Prowl stepped up and began working with Red Alert on acceptable probabilities. Prowl was one of the most elegant code writers on the Ark, and Red found himself challenged to keep up with the tactician. Jazz came in to their meetings too, and Red found himself gaining a new respect for the saboteur as he quickly found holes in the code Prowl and Red Alert had been working on. The Lamborghini confessed to Inferno that evening that he felt much more confident in the security of the Ark with Prowl and Jazz watching events, but he still could contribute. Inferno agreed, but internally mourned the coming end of the uninterrupted time with Red Alert. With this much progress, the security director would soon be taking up his duties, and that meant Inferno would be back on a regular duty roster.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

When Inferno onlined the next morning, it was to find Red Alert leaning over him, tracing patterns over the windshield on his chest. His engine was already reving high, and he moaned as he captured the fingers teasing him. The Lamborghini moved up and awkwardly kissed him. Inferno couldn't help his response, groaning and opening his mouth for Red's exploration. Red broke the kiss after long moments, his vents working to expel the excess heat of his frame, looking at the dazed fire truck who attempted to capture the Lamborghini's lips again. At the look on Red Alert's face, Inferno struggled to regain his control but was stymied by the security director once again leaning over him and pressing his lips to the fire truck's mouth. Inferno could feel himself spiraling out of control as Red Alert continued to find sensitive places on his body. He finally forced his processor to work, flipping them over so that Red Alert was on the bottom and Inferno could capture the hands tormenting him.

"Stop. We've talked about this, remember? You can't tease me."

Red gazed up at him, a serenity in his optics that Inferno could never recall seeing before. "I'm not teasing. I've realized the longer we go without doing something about this…attraction…between us, the easier it is for me to do nothing, and that's not fair either. I…want you. Please."

Inferno groaned and dropped his head to Red's chest, muttering, "Don't. Primus, Red, don't do this to me. I can't make these decisions for you."

"You're not. I want this. I want you."

He visibly struggled for control, gasping, "All right. OK. But if you want to stop, all you need to do is say something. You know this, right?"

"Yes."

Inferno didn't answer with words, he swooped in and kissed Red Alert fiercely, stroking his hand over Red's body from his shoulder to his hip. Red arched into the touch. Inferno gathered him closer, then rolled so that Red was on top. The security director took advantage of this new position, his hands flitting over the huge truck form and finding sensitive spots that soon had Inferno blazing with heat and gasping air in to help his overwhelmed cooling systems. Red's hands continued to find seams and cracks in his armor that he had never known were so sensitive. He moved his hand over Red's back and was delighted when the Lamborghini arched into him, the sensor network covering Red Alert's body making him exquisitely responsive to touch.

The Lamborghini, once he'd regained control of his servos, moved a hand to the antenna on the side of Inferno's head and stroked one, redoubling his efforts when this caused the fire truck to lean into the caress and groan. His other hand was moving along the bumper that divided Inferno's chest and abdomen. Inferno was not idle, either, moving over Red's body and finding components on his back and shoulders that had Red Alert moving closer. Red moved his hand over to one of the wing-like protrusions that framed Inferno's head, and the fire truck felt his systems fritz as Red delicately outlined the frills. In self defense, Inferno stroked his hand up Red's back, over his spoiler and to his helm, brushing his fingers of the horns adorning Red's helm. His other hand moved down to Red's aft, pushing him into the fire truck's body. Red Alert pressed closer under the coaxing, moving so he could brush his lips over Inferno's and bringing his other hand up to the fire truck's helm. The complicated structures of the fire engine were surprisingly sensitive, and Inferno could feel his overload bearing down on him. Struggling for enough control to bring Red Alert with him, Inferno lightened his touch on Red's helm, brushing a thumb along the seam that joined the horn to the helm while his fingers stroked over the protruding horn and to the center array that topped the helm. That was enough to cause Red to go over the edge, and the electricity running through his body jumped to Inferno's and caused him to topple into his overload. Blackness descended as his systems shut down from the overwhelming sensations bombarding his CPU.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

When Inferno woke again, he was gratified to find Red still sprawled on his chest, his head resting on the fire truck's shoulder. He lay there, his systems slowing booting up and reveling in the feeling of completion he felt. Red finally stirred, raising his head in bewilderment. Inferno felt a cold feeling of dread start deep in his internals, fearing that his lack of restraint would be a setback for the Lamborghini, but once Red's systems had booted up enough for the security directory to orient himself, he smiled at Inferno and all such feelings fled, to be replaced with joy.

"You do love me." Red informed him.

"Yes, I do." Inferno agreed.

"I felt it, when we…well, at the end there." He snuggled back down, content to rest on the warm chest of his lover.

Inferno merely hummed at him in reply. There was no need for words at this point.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"That's perfect, Eject, thank you very much." Red Alert noted the path of the cassette on his map of the Ark, nodding at Blaster. The security director had been back at his job for a week, and the first thing he had done was request Blaster's assistance. Optimus Prime, happy to have a recovered Red Alert back on the team, had the communications director promptly in the Teletraan room, where Red had talked over the security of the Ark with Blaster, Jazz, Mirage and Ironhide. Blaster's cassettes, being smaller than most of the mechs, had discovered holes in the security perimeter of the Ark that were probably being used by Soundwave and his cassettes. Mirage and Jazz were requested to look at the Ark as an enemy would and find weaknesses, which a team was in the process of evaluating. The security feeds to the main room of Teletraan were left alone, with one of the mechs that Jazz had assembled during Red's absence assigned to watch them. This allowed Red to have a backup set of optics at all times, and had already shown to be fruitful. The changes allowed for Red Alert to have a normal duty rotation, and Inferno made certain that Red was recharging properly and taking care of himself. The security director's glitch was not gone, but controlled. Caution would have to be exercised to be sure that Red never again slipped down as far as he had, but the fire truck felt confident that the support and caring shown to Red Alert in his time of need was the best medicine he could have. Privately, Inferno basked in the love and caring he was showered with, and he offered his love in return. Their relationship was a source of joy and confidence for both of them, and Inferno couldn't imagine living his life any other way.


End file.
